


a natural progression

by military_bluebells



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Established Relationship, F/M, Kissing, Oral Sex, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Sex, Vaginal Fingering, consent is important, in that order, slight self-esteem issues, very little actual plot sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:54:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23415625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/military_bluebells/pseuds/military_bluebells
Summary: She smiled athimin class, she waited forhimat the beginning and end of the day, she likedhim.Or, five times they don't havesexsex and the time they do.
Relationships: Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 3
Kudos: 115
Collections: Stydia Smut





	a natural progression

**Author's Note:**

> The first smut fic I ever wrote, for my used-to-be-very-horny friend. 
> 
> Edit: Now available in Pусский at https://ficbook.net/readfic/9340583#part_content (Big thank you to Vera for the translation!)

-1-

It’s strange to Stiles, to know that Lydia could see him, knew that he existed. He’d spent so long off her radar, unseen, unheard, that now, when she looked down the lockers, looking for _him_ , it was overwhelming.

She smiled at _him_ in class, she waited for _him_ at the beginning and end of the day, she liked _him_.

He tried to keep the lovey dovey stuff on the down low though, he’d had the misfortune of watching Allison and Scott in the honeymoon phrase, that they were _still_ in. They were so mushy he spent half the time gagging whenever they were within five feet of each other.

No, he and Lydia weren’t going to be that couple, they’d agreed on that at the beginning. Despite how Lydia’s relationship with Jackson had gone; making out in the hallways, him grabbing her ass etc, she confessed to him that PDA wasn't her thing, which was fine with him because just feeling the eyes on him when he walked with Lydia was enough to keep him up at night. Also, he wouldn’t be surprise if she just broke his hand if he ever grabbed her ass and personally, he liked his hand unbroken.

So that was why he liked it when it was just the two of them, he could be as lovesick as he wanted without the others there to mock him.

“When you mix a carboxylic acid with an alcohol you get an ester…” Lydia explained, tapping her pen on the page spread out in front of her. Stiles hummed.

A big chemistry test was coming up, and as usual Lydia wasn’t the faintest bit worried about it: she could probably pass it in her sleep at ten years old. Stiles on the other hand, was worried, not too much about himself - he could scrape a pass if he needed to - he was worried about Scott. Allison was already tutoring him but how much of that tutoring wasn’t just making out and sex was up for debate. So, Stiles was taking it into his own hands: he was not letting his best friend be held back.

He’d asked Lydia to tutor him, so he could pass the information onto Scott instead of just rambling and hoping Scott could keep up. Lydia picked her house so laying side by side, they flipped through Lydia’s chemistry book.

Lydia was still in the blue blouse and a red tartan skirt from school. Her strawberry blonde locks flowed over her shoulders, almost touching the pages. He leant his head on his hand and watched her lips move, still covered in red lipstick.

Obviously, he hadn’t been watching close enough because suddenly Lydia was giving him an unimpressed look and shit, he didn’t know what she’d been saying.

“You weren’t listening to any of that were you?”

Stiles grimaced, “You were talking about esters?” Lydia rolled her eyes and shut her Chemistry book, but then started to smirk.

Stiles gulped.

“I could have sworn you were passing Chemistry, very well actually.” She said slowly, “You don’t need tutoring.”

“Actually, you know I really struggle with um, a lot of it, most of it you know like equations and uh stuff.”

“Stuff.” She repeated almost mockingly. Stiles swallowed and began to open his mouth when Lydia smiled at him.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you only organised this to get me alone.’” Stiles again began to open his mouth, probably to ramble but Lydia rose gracefully from her stomach to sit on folded legs and laughed softly, leaning forward.

“I don’t mind.” She said softly, leaning in. Stiles wondered if she could hear his heart beating like a drum from there. Her eyes stayed on his; they were perfect balance of green and brown, but in the warm light of her bedroom they look greener. He thought she was looking at his too, but then they flicked down to his lips. Lydia Martin was looking at his lips like she wanted to kiss them.

He almost missed it, when she leant forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His eyes widened and he froze. Lydia leaned back, looking softly at him, before cupping his jaw and kissing him again. He relaxed this time, leaning into it.

Lydia sighed into his mouth, taking a second to nip at Stiles’s bottom lip before sealing them back together. She tasted like strawberries from earlier. He was soooo glad he chose to grow his hair out when one of her hands threaded through his hair and scratching at his scalp. It sent pleasant jolts right to his-

“Lydia!”

Stiles flailing backwards, jerking away like he’d been shot. His head bounced of the bed and Lydia huffed.

“Yes, Mom!” Lydia shouted back, calm as always. It was kind of embarrassing that kissing had got him worked up while Lydia stayed perfectly fine. The only evidence she’d been doing anything was her slightly untucked blouse, but Stiles bet he looked like he’d been thrown into a bush. His face felt like it was on fire, but Lydia hadn’t seemed to notice so it wasn’t a bad as it could be.

“I’m going out! Remember to have tea and not to work too late!” Stiles thought the last bit was teasing but he didn’t really know Ms Martin well enough to be sure. Lydia seemed amused anyway, shooting back a,

“Of course!”

They heard a door slam and Stiles took that as a cue to turn back to Lydia's Chem book.

“So, what’s an ester again?” he asked, flipping the textbook open.

-2- 

They fell asleep on Stiles’s bed after a research session on the ‘bad guys of the week’. Lydia could feel Stile's soft breaths ghosting her neck, where he was tucked closely behind her, his head in the crook of her neck. She’d been awake for some time but couldn’t bring herself to move. Stiles didn’t sleep well - she knew that - so disturbing him when he was finally asleep, didn’t seem right.

It had nothing to do with how his arms were wrapped around her.

The only uncomfortable thing was the hard _presence_ bumping against her ass. Normally, she would slightly annoyed but this was Stiles, she doubted he'd planned this. Besides, feeling almost as comfortable as she did in her own bed, she could put it behind her. 

She traced her fingers along Stiles’s forearm, tracing the coloured yarn criss-crossing his 'monster' board with her eyes. Papers were strewn across the covers, remanence of one of Stiles’s sparks of inspiration.

The arm around her middle clenched and Stiles nuzzled further into her neck. Lydia sighed softly, closing her eyes as warm lips pressed against her neck. “Stiles.” She whispered. Stiles hummed but didn’t give any further response. Lydia huffed and wiggled back. His breath hitched, and hips slowly ground against Lydia’s, the arm around her middle clenching again. Lydia hummed and bared her neck, pushing the crown of her head into the bed as she ground back.

Stiles groaned into her neck then asked sleepily, “Lydia?”

“Yes?”

“What’re you, um, doing?”

"Nothing,” she replied airily. Stiles huffed, and it probably meant something when she could instantly picture Stiles rolling his eyes. She considered her options carefully; she could carry on grinding against Stiles even though it didn’t open many other options unless she or Stiles suddenly became contortionists, or she could take control of the situation. The option of stopping ran through her mind but she pushed it aside, she didn't want to.

She sighed, silently mourning the warmth she was about to lose, and unfolded Stiles’s arms from her waist. Stiles whined, probably at the loss of warmth too, and blinked amber-brown eyes at her. Lydia pressed her lips together to hide her smile and righted her dress, the nice red floral one she wore with black leggings. Stiles had lost his flannel somewhere, so he was left in just his grey t-shirt and jeans. She didn’t mourn its loss though: his flannel collection was growing on her. Minutely.

She straddled his hips, rolling him onto his back. He looked up at her, rubbed his eyes. She got lost in his eyes for a second - they looked like liquid gold at this angle - and his hair was dishevelled from sleep. It was cute and she wouldn't have used that word to describe her boyfriends a few months ago. Hot, sure, muscular, definitely but cute, not really.

That was growing on her too.

She got back to business as it seemed Stiles hadn’t gotten her hint; she was sitting in his lap for goodness sake how more upfront could she get.

He startled if she can on too strong, freezing like a dear in headlights, so she kissed him chastely first. She tugged at his lip with her teeth a second later and they fell apart naturally for her. Stiles caught up quickly - matching her rhythm - and Lydia had to admit, for all she knew he had no idea what he was doing, he did learn quickly.

His lips had been surprisingly soft the first time she’d kissed him, and it still surprised her now, she’d seen him biting at his lips less than six hours ago and yet they were perfectly soft.

Stiles finally took some initiative, putting his hands on her waist. She’d have to do something about that later, it wasn’t like she was a nun. Another thing that surprised her was just how big his hands were, with long, thin fingers too. She’d imagined them elsewhere recently.

The thought of where his hands could be, made her grind a little harder into Stiles’s lap and yes, that was the friction she needed. Stiles sighed into her mouth, lips pausing open against her, and he rocked back. Lydia moaned and felt Stiles shift under her. Their angle changed, Stiles sitting up more against the headboard.

Stiles pulled back and pressed soft, open mouthed kisses to her neck. She tilted her head back - giving him a little more room - and rocked forcefully down into his lap. Even through several layers the friction was good, but not enough. 

She wrapped her arms around his pleasantly broad shoulders and tugging at his t-shirt. Stiles hummed but didn’t move to take it off. Lydia decided to lead by example and pulled back and whipped her t-shirt dress off, throwing it onto one of the piles of paper on the floor. She knew she was in great shape, so she wasn’t concern when Stiles’s eyes flittered over her body, pausing half a second longer on her breasts.

He didn’t look at her for as long as she expected him to, returning to kiss her, biting her lips gently. One of his hands slipped up her back and she expected him to undo her bra but no, he went straight pass the band to cup the back of her head instead, fingers carding into her hair. She stored that away for later and pushed her own hands up the back of his t-shirt, sliding them against soft skin.

Her tongue had just begun to explore Stiles’s mouth when the Sheriff called up the stairs,

“Stiles, I’m back!”

Stiles jerked away from her lips and shouted, somewhat hoarsely, Lydia smirked, “Hey, dad.”

His hands disappeared from her hair and her waist and he tipped Lydia onto the bed. There was a moment where Lydia was laying back on the bed and Stiles was above her, arms either side of her head before he rolled off her, falling over the side of the bed.

Lydia laughed as Stiles jumped off the floor and grabbed her dress before yelling, “I’ll be down in a minute, don’t put on bacon or we won’t have takeaway with the game on Sunday!”

The Sheriff shouted something back, but Lydia didn’t catch it, too busy admiring her work. Stiles’s hair was even more messy, strands sticking up in every direction, and his shirt rumpled where her hands had fisted it. She pressed her lips together as she noticed his jeans were tented.

She sat up on her elbows, looking at Stiles expectantly when he spun to look at her.

“Sorry, it’s just…um… my dad.” He stuttered, and Lydia took pity on him. She rose from the bed and walked over to him, taking her dress from his hands. “It’s fine Stiles, I’ll go freshen up and then we can have breakfast.” She said chirpily. She strutted over to the door and said as an after thought over her shoulder.

“You should probably take care of that.” She waved a hand and gave the bulge in Stiles’s jeans a pointed look. Stiles blushed rosy red all the way down his neck and Lydia smirked, whipping around the door frame.

The heat in the bottom of her stomach finally went halfway through breakfast.

-3- 

The weather running up to Lydia’s birthday was clear and not too cold so, for her birthday Stiles planned a trip to the lake, just the two of them. It didn’t actually happen on Lydia’s birthday, that was reserved for her famous birthday party since it was a Friday this year.

Stiles got through the event as awkwardly as ever, spending most of his time by the alcohol keg with Isaac. Scott had been somewhere, doing something with Allison as usual so he didn’t really see him for the whole of the party. Erica and Boyd had been dancing in one of the corners, all grinding from Erica and soft swaying from Boyd. Danny and Jackson had been playing Beer Pong with a few others Stiles didn’t know, probably on the swim team or something and Stiles’d joined in for some time before Jackson had banned Stiles from playing with a, “You’re too shit at this Stilinski.”

Danny had helpfully translated that for Stiles, “Jackson thinks you’re too good and doesn’t want to lose to you.”

Lydia however had been in her element, in a stunning blue dress, with a low neckline with a pair of simple heels, walking around with drinks and checking on everyone. Since all the drama in sophomore year, Lydia had changed. Stiles didn’t think most people noticed but he had. She wasn’t wearing as skimpy clothes or as high heels or as thick make-up. It wasn’t a drastic change, it wasn’t like she was ever going to wear one of his plaid shirts, but Stiles had noticed anyway.

He’d been self-conscious at the party: he knew he wasn't Jackson or Danny or Isaac or well literally anyone hot. In the end though, he’d given up trying to be someone he wasn’t, so he’d dressed in a plain black shirt, rolled up to his elbows with his skinny black jeans and his black trainers. Lydia had given him an appreciative look, so he guessed he’d looked alright.

But he was glad it was just them now, walking down to the lake, hand in hand.

Everything was laid out already, it paid to be prepared and Stiles was always prepared, except when he wasn’t but really who expects werewolves. Lydia talked him through one of her books, Gödel’s Proof, as they walked to the lake. Stiles guided them to a stop before the tree line and turned to Lydia mischievously.

He held up a piece of fabric, “Now comes the surprise, can I?”

Lydia gave him a considering look and nodded slowly. Stiles grinned and brought the makeshift blindfold up to her eyes, bringing it gently round her head, making sure not to disturb the beautiful up-do she’d done, something with a braid that reminded him of his mum. He swept a loose piece behind her ear and ran his hand down her arm to grasp her hand.

She was smiling so he took that as a good sign and carefully led her to the jetty where he’d laid out the small picnic. It was mostly sweet stuff and fruit, like chocolate and strawberries, cream and peaches and stuff. He’d made sure to pick up blueberries, Lydia loved them.

He stopped a foot or so from the blanket, untying the blindfold, and waved a hand in front of them, “Ta da!”

Stiles watched Lydia’s eyes widen and she turned to look at him,

“A picnic?” she asked, her eyes bright. Stiles nodded his head, grinning as he folded himself down on the checked blanket. Lydia followed him, sitting with her legs underneath her, her navy skirt resting neatly over her legs.

They picked at the food together, occasionally feeding each other and talking about everything under the sun. They finished the feast quite quickly, so Stiles kicked off his shoes and rolled up his jeans to his knees, dropping his legs over the edge of the dock into the dark water. Lydia smiled and slipped her sandals off, dipping her own feet into the water. They kicked their legs, making the water ripple. It was kind of cold but not so much that his feet were numb.

Stiles took a second to look at Lydia, the sun shining through her strawberry blond hair and making her eyes look greener, at her exposed collarbones and the hollow of her neck.

A calmness settled over them and for once he could sit still, the anxiousness off the past months fading to the back of his mind.

A finger traced over his knuckles and Stiles looked up from the soft ripples in the water, to look at Lydia. She had a mischievous look on her face and Stiles cocked his head, looking at her questioningly. She gave him a sly look before standing up. Stiles made a confused noise, but Lydia just smiled at him and untuck her white t-shirt. She crossed her arms, grasped the edge of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head, throwing it onto the dock. Stiles's eyes widened as he caught sight of the plain white bra and realised what Lydia was doing.

“Lydia?” Stiles asked.

Lydia slipped her skirt off, revealing matching white pants. Stiles’s mouth opened and closed several times but she just rolled her eyes and… jumped into the water.

Stiles leant back, trying to dodge the splash and let out a sharp laugh. He watched Lydia swim up to the surface, her hair trailing behind her like a flame. She turned to look at Stiles, biting her lip and smirking as she waved a hand in front of her,

“Aren’t you going to join me?” she asked coyly. Stiles snorted and pushed off his jacket. He stood up and, after a moment of debating, tugged his t-shirt off. He pulled his jean, his leg got caught for a second, and dumped them on his piles of clothes.

He jumped in, letting the water rush over his head. He quickly pushed off the bottom, the unpleasant taste of chlorine building at the back of his throat, memories unravelling from their tied bundle in his head. Another time, another place, Stiles reminded himself, he wasn’t in a pool, he didn’t have a 200-pound, paralysed Alpha dragging him under the surface.

“Stiles?” Lydia asked questioningly, cupping his jaw. He hadn’t even noticed she’d gotten that close.

Her arm wrapped over his shoulders, her other hand sliding to the back of his skull, finger teasing the short hair at his nape. Stiles leant in close, “I’m fine Lyds.” He said softly. She gave him a look but nodded anyway, resting her forehead against his.

Lydia stared at him, her eyes wide and breath-taking. She smiled at him and dragged her soft lips his more chapped ones. Stiles smiled into the kiss and pressed in harder, tracing his tongue over her lower lip. She opened her mouth and sucked on his tongue. Stiles moaned softly.

Lydia pulled back, grinning, “You know I’ve never been on a picnic before but I’m actually enjoying this one.”

“Technically, this is a swim-in-a-lake date now not a picnic date but that’s… not like a bad thing.”

Lydia laughed and pulled him closer, their legs brushing under the water, knees knocking against each other gently. Her legs suddenly appeared by his waist and then they were wrapped around him. They sunk slightly, only their heads and bits of their shoulders above the surface.

Lydia bought their lips together again, jumping straight to hot and wanting. Stiles let his mind wonder as they settled into a rhythm, Lydia pulling at Stiles’s hair as he sucked lightly on her tongue, her hip twitching every so often.

The water was warmer now, the midday sun shining high in the sky, casting its light over them. It brushed over his shoulder, feeling almost like a hug. Lydia’s arms around his neck were warmer though, silky smooth skin hot against his bare shoulders.

“Let’s move this back onto dry land, hm.” Lydia said against his lips.

Stiles hummed and moved his hands to keep her stable. If he got to touch the smooth skin of her thighs that was just a coincidence. He walked them back to the jetty, helping her sit on the side. Lydia threaded her hand through his hair and tugged it, leaning down to catch Stiles lips again. Stiles sighed, pressing into the kiss firmly, his hands gripping the wood either side of Lydia’s hips.

“Get up here.” She whispered, and Stiles scrambled to comply. He lifted himself up, coming to sit on the other side of Lydia. He’d expected Lydia to start talking or reach for some more of the blueberries; instead she climbed into his lap, grinding hard against him and biting her lip. Stiles fell back in surprise onto the blanket he’d laid out. After a second he relaxed and cupped the back of her head. He rolled them over, laying Lydia flat on her back, chest to chest.

“Is this okay?” he asked, and Lydia just rolled her eyes.

“Get on with it.” She said, nipping at his Adam’s apple. Stiles nodded and leant down, nipping at her collar bone, before making his way up her throat with soft kisses, sucking lightly at her pulse point.

“If you could do that harder, that would be great.” Lydia gritted out and Stiles nodded against her neck. He sucked harder on the junction between her neck and her shoulder and Lydia sighed heavily. Her legs shifted beneath him, brushing against the bulge growing in his boxers. Stiles moaned into Lydia's neck, grinding down, his hands shaking.

Lydia hummed and pushed her leg more firmly against Stiles, who groaned gratefully. He reached up to her shoulder and slipped the strap of her bra down, shifting the cup of her bra to the side, so he could wrap his mouth around her nipple. Lydia gasped and tugged over his hair, grinding into the leg he’d put between hers. He played with her nipple, rolling it with his tongue and tugging it gently with his teeth. When she let out a high moan, he sucked on it then let his mouth fall away, moving to mouth at her skin around it.

“Stiles,” Lydia began to say, gasping between words, “I need you to, get my underwear off, I need-” She moaned loudly as Stiles tugged at her nipple again, “Friction.” She finished, relaxing back onto the wood.

“Okay,” Stiles murmured into her mouth as his hands slimmed down her sides to the band of her underwear. He slipped the white material down to her knees; he didn’t really know what he was doing but when he brushed his knuckles against her, she gasped. He did the movement again, slower this time and harder, brushing further down and getting a little of her slick on his fingers. She moaned and dug her heels into the back of his thighs, but Stiles could feel himself smiling like an idiot. He leant up to kiss her and brushed two knuckles roughly against what must be her clit, thank you random hyperfixation.

She gripped his hair and his shoulder and rocked into his hand, letting three of his knuckles brush over her entrance. Stiles bit his lip at the warm, wet feeling against his hands and felt his dick twitched in his boxers. He nudged leant down until he could close his lips over the sensitive hollow of her throat and sucked a light bruise there. He brushed a finger over her entrance, letting his fingertip dip in shallowly. Lydia’s hips circled around his finger, pushing it in deeper and they hummed together. Stiles rocked his hand in time with Lydia’s hips, slipping another finger slowly in with the other. Lydia sighed and tilted her head back, exposing more of her neck to Stiles’s lips that mouthed up to the sensitive spot behind her jaw.

Lydia’s finger felt like heaven in his hair, her nail scratching at sensitive spots Stiles had never imagined were there.

“Stiles,” Lydia gasped out after he rocked his fingers a little rougher. Stiles hummed into her neck, leaving another faint mark on the skin. “Stiles,” Lydia said more urgently, one hand tugging at his hair, the other cupping his jaw, tipping his head up away from her neck. He followed her, looking up into her hazel eyes, her pupils blown wide. He gulped, heat rushing down his chest.

His fingers dragged against her edge and she arched, her chest bumping into his, her one nipple dragging against his. Stiles groaned into her hair, one hand fisting the strands. Lydia hummed and started rocking into his fingers again. They built up a rhythm, Lydia rocking into Stiles's fingers, pulling them deep into her warmth and Stiles rocking against Lydia’s thigh, his hard-on rubbing just enough. He hid his face in her neck as he felt himself get closer and closer to the edge. He could feel her breathes ghosting his neck, her face pressing against his shoulder, the heat of her cheek on his skin.

“Shit, Lydia,” he moaned, feeling himself falling over the edge, warmth flooding his boxers. He rocked through his orgasm, gasping into Lydia’s hair, her own breathy moans the soundtrack, echoing in his ear.

“Come on, harder, just a little more,” she whispered in his ear and Stiles nodded, pressing his fingers harder and faster and Lydia arched, her head flying back, bumping against the wood, mouth open in a silent moan.

Stiles slipped his fingers out slowly when she stopped pulsing around them, careful not to jostle her. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips and then relaxed into her, resting his head on her collar bone and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Lydia hummed, “Yes,” and added, coyly, “You know it’s been a long time since I came from just fingers.”

Stiles coughed, choking on spit and lifted his head up to look at her, but she patted his head down back to her shoulder.

“Was this a good birthday present?” Stiles asked, the anxiousness rushing back suddenly.

Lydia humoured him anyway, mumbling a soft but sure ‘yes,’ right into his ear. Stiles settled after that and let Lydia run her fingers through his hair.

-4- 

“Why are we out here?” Lydia asked, picking at the paint on her nails. She wasn’t so impressed by the shade, something champagne. 

Stiles sighed next to her, leaning back into his seat, “I don’t even know anymore, it’s not like the vampires are just going to run down the middle of the road.” 

“You never know.” Lydia added, rubbing at the little bit of eye shadow that was out of place. She closed the car mirror and looked across at Stiles. He was looking out of the windscreen, one of his feet kicked up on his seat, his arms resting on it. His hair was sticking up in every direction, probably from his fingers tugging at it for the last hour. The lack of proper light made his eyes look black, his skin even paler in comparison. His other hand tapped a rhythm on the steering wheel as they waited.

The pack shouldn’t have taken this long to find the nest but knowing them, they’d probably completely missed it. Lydia sighed, it could take them hours to search the whole preserve, but they couldn’t just leave it, the vampires had already taken three teenagers and two adults and if they left it any longer, the nest would move, and they’d have to start all over again. 

She’s just glad she didn’t have to walk around the preserve, even in late March the nights were cold, and it was much better here, sitting comfortably in Stiles’s jeep with him, a blanket draped over her knees, covering what her summer dress didn’t. She should’ve worn tights under them.

She drifted, listening to Stiles’s constant tapping, letting her eyes slip shut to the lullaby. It must be nearly twelve, the moon was in the centre of the sky, only half of it showing.

They sighed together and shared bored smiles: there’s not much they could do, they needed to maintain their position on the outskirts of the preserve, so the vampires couldn’t go escape with detection.

“Why don’t you go into the back, there’s more space and it’s comfier to sleep in.” Stiles said, eyes not peeling away from the road in front of them.Lydia nodded and pushed the thick blanket off her legs. She climbed into the back, dragging the blanket with her and took off her shoes, it wasn’t like she was going to be running anywhere.

She laid down, her head propped on a pile of clothes Lydia thinks was Stiles’s jackets - they smelt like the washing powder he used - and adjusted herself until she could see Stiles, the back of his head and a plaid covered shoulder.

Pulling the blanket up over her shoulders, she sighed and shifted, trying to get comfortable. Whatever she tries, she just couldn’t settle. She stared at the back of Stiles’s head as he shifted around in the front. Lydia knew she wasn't going to be able to sleep: she’s not like Stiles - who can sleep almost anywhere - she liked having a bed and a blanket and pillows. She let her mind drift, hoping it would fix on something she could consider, maybe a mathematical problem, but her mind kept drifting to Stiles, his mussed hair and long fingers.

She bit her lip: her birthday hadn’t been that long ago. She could just about remember the feeling of his fingers in her and it was enough for her legs to clench together. She slipped a hand under the blanket and down her dress, at least she wasn’t in her jeans otherwise this would’ve been much more complicated. It was easy to cup herself and run a finger down her slit.

She focused on the back of Stiles’s head and tried to remember how he looked when he came.

“They shouldn’t be taking this long,” Stiles moaned, hitting his head against the steering wheel.

Lydia hummed, gasping a little as she pressed her finger a little harder against her clit. Her eyes must have shut because when she opened them, her eyes met Stiles’s honey coloured eyes, looking widely at her.

She laughed breathily and said, “I’m bored,” and rubbed a little harder on her clit again. Stiles visibly gulped, and she watched his chest rise up and down as he breathed. He bit at his lip and blinked, his eyes flickering down to where her hand disappeared under the blanket and gulped again.

“Do you-” Stiles started to say lowly and Lydia sighed, nodding. He climbed into the back clumsily, bumping his head on the roof. Lydia chuckled, the vibration running down her. He knelt his knees either side of her, so Lydia rolled onto her back. His shoulders were very deceptive, they looked like they should be narrow and thin but up close they were broad. His hands planted either side of her head and he kissed her. He'd leant fast what she liked so his tongue brushed over the lips before dipping past them.

Lydia let him have control of the kiss and focused on dipping her fingers into herself. She gasped, and Stiles moved down her jaw to her neck. She tipped her head back and slipped her unoccupied hand out of the blanket and over Stiles’s shoulder, digging her nail in when he bit down a little roughly on her collarbone. She rocked into her hand a little and Stiles must have felt it because suddenly his lips disappeared, and she was hit by a cold burst of air. Stiles lifted by the blanket and ducked under it, covering Lydia in warmth hotter than the blanket could ever make. She hummed in pleasure, rocking her fingers a little harder.

“Shit,” Stiles breathed out and his hands appeared back, one under her head.

“Lydia,” he started again, his face inches away from hers, “Can I try something?”

Lydia blinked and pulled her fingers out of her slowly, she couldn’t concentrate with them there. “What?” she asked, panting a little. Stiles gulped above her and looked shyer than she’d ever seen him. He mumbled something, and Lydia rolled her eyes, “If I can’t hear you, I can’t say yes.” 

Stiles breathed in and said, almost too quickly, “I want to eat you out.” 

Lydia opened her mouth to say, no I’m not going to blow you when the words registered in her brain and then she had no idea what to say. Stiles didn’t look her in the eye until she whispered a soft ‘okay’. It’s new: guys usually want her to do something for them first, but then again, she’d never dated someone like Stiles.

Stiles grinned at her and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to her lips before kissing a track down her throat to the neckline of the dress. His hands smoothed down her side and he shuffled back, putting the blanket up over his shoulders. His hands stuttered at the hem of her dress before he pushed it up slowly .

Lydia clenched her legs together as a burst of cold hit her upper thighs. She forced herself to relax, she trusted Stiles with her life, and she loved him. It’s a serious and scary thought, one Lydia’s been pushing to the back of her mind for a while. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking it though, because Stiles’s warm, big, hand was tracing up her legs. She looked down and made eye contact with Stiles, his pupils blown in arousal.

“Can I?”

Lydia rolled her eyes, “Yes Stiles.” Stiles smiled dopily at her and then all she could see was the top of his head.

The first touch of his mouth was tentative and soft. She knew he didn’t have any idea what he was doing but even the explorative touches and kisses had her trying to squirm and push her legs together. She ended up gripping his hair tightly with a fist, tugging whenever she felt the urge to squirm.

His mouth connected with her clit and Lydia sighed, relaxing as his tongue nudged at it. She tugged on Stile’s hair sharply when his teeth lightly nipped at the bud, and moaned, the shot of tingling heat fizzing up her stomach. She felt a sharp intake of breath between her legs, but she couldn’t focus on the feeling as Stiles’s lips sucked at her clit. She moaned, arching back, digging her head into the pile of sweaters. She closed her eyes as Stiles licked into her, the odd feeling of it overridden by the heat it produced. She squirmed slightly and huffed a breath, she hadn’t even realised she’d started panting.

The windows of the jeep were fogged up now and Lydia watched as a drop of water slipped down the window and onto the car door. She panted as Stiles’s mouth returned to her clit, playing with it, and she reached to cup her breast. She wished she’d took off her dress, but she couldn’t now, she didn’t want Stiles to move an inch. She settled for reaching through the neckline to brush the skin above her bra. She found her nipple easily and gently pinched it, the warmth shot around her body from the double stimulus. 

Stiles slipped a finger into her and coupled it with rough brushes of his tongue over her clit. Lydia rocked shallowly against his mouth, gripping a little rougher on her nipple. The heat built and built, Stiles slipping another finger into her, curling them both. She gasped again and again as she got closer and tugged at Stiles’s hair.

“Stiles,” she breathed out as the heat toppled over an edge she hadn’t even seen coming, the feeling rushing through her bones; she closed her eyes, relaxing into the seat below her, slipping her fingers out of Stiles’s hair. She lay in the warm afterglow, tingling but thoroughly relaxed. With her eyes closed, she only felt Stiles’s lips pressing a kiss to her neck. She hummed and slid her hands around his waist, pulling him towards her.

“Ah, you might not want to do that,” Stiles said quietly, and Lydia cracked one eye open. Stiles was looking everywhere but her eyes and blushing a dark pink.

“Why?” she asked, trying to sound irritated but she was just too relaxed.

“Um, I just uh came,” he said softly. It took Lydia a second to process the comment and then she was biting her lip, trying not to laugh. Stiles blushed even darker, ducking his head down in embarrassment. He was saved by the shrilling sound of,

_Bromance,_

_Nothing really gay about it,_

_Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay,_

_Bromance,_

_Shouldn’t be ashamed or hide it,_

_I love you in the most heterosexual way_

Stiles leant over to grab his phone from the front seat, it must have slipped out of his back pocket when he’d moved. Lydia held his hip to stop him toppling over like usual and she might have copped a feel of his ass. For a guy on the skinner side of the spectrum, it was very nice, when he chose to dress properly.

“Did you find the vampires?” Stiles asked straight away with no greeting. The easy way Scott and Stiles meld together was practically genetic, she doesn’t think she’s ever heard them greet each other like normal people, ‘hellos’ and ‘how are yous’ replaced by ‘dudes’ and ‘guess whats’. It’s lovely to watch though, the two of them working together like they’re one person, attached at the hip.

Maybe she and Stiles would be like that one day.

-5- 

Scott was going to give him a heart attack or a stroke or something.

They have their chemistry test in ten minutes and they’d agreed, verbally, face to face, just last night, that they’d go over their revision cards together. But Scott was nowhere to be seen and when Stiles asked Isaac where he was, Isaac responded with a, “I think I saw him with Allison.”, which probably meant they’re locked in a closet, making out or staring lovingly into each other’s eyes, whatever they usually do.

It’s not like it’s Stiles who’s in danger of failing the test.

He didn’t really know what to do with himself, so he started pacing up and down the corridor outside the classroom, which was slowly filling with people. He fiddled with his hands, his sneaker scuffing against the floor as he paced faster.

A strawberry blonde head appeared out of the mass of people and stepped in front of him, slowing him to a halt. Lydia had her hair in a functional ponytail, wearing a skirt or dress. He would have spent more time admiring her in all her goddess-like beauty if he wasn’t so stressed, he’s pretty sure there’s only five minutes left before the test and he hasn’t seen Scott or Allison anywhere.

“Stiles,” Lydia said, possibly in a fond tone but Stiles’s ears feel like they’d been stuffed with cotton wool.

“Stiles.” Lydia said more forcefully but the hands she took his with was soft. He could feel his chest tightening and sucked in a breath, holding it for a few second before releasing it. Lydia was right there, gripping his hands with her small, petite ones, decorated with red nail varnish. She breathed with him, hazel eyes searching his face. Lydia waited until he'd calmed down to ask,

“What’s wrong, you don’t usually stress this much about tests?”

“I can’t see Scott anywhere,” Stiles said as the teacher opened the door. Their classmates started filtering into the classroom and Stiles still couldn’t see Scott anywhere.

Lydia looked around them before turning back to Stiles, gripping his hands firmly, “He’ll be here. Now come on, we need to get to our seats.” She tugged him into the classroom, whispering a final, firm, "He’ll be here.”

Stiles took his seat, getting his pencils out as Lydia sat a seat in front of him to his left. Scott appeared one minute before the test started, followed by Allison, both looking frazzled and dreamy eyed. Stiles was sure Lydia rolled her eyes at Allison because Allison blushed all the way to her seat. Scott plopped down in his seat like a puppy and Stiles could see from his angle that he’s smiling dopily, his mouth smudged with pink lipstick which Stiles thought was the same shade as Allison’s. He shook his head and started the test.

He finished it quicker than he was expecting, he would’ve been worried about it but unlike Scott, Stiles had productive study sessions with his girlfriend, so he’d probably would’ve been able to do the test in his sleep he knew the content so well and he thinks he’s actually avoided writing an essay on a complete different topic this time. For the last twenty minutes of the test, he sat twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling… then the board, then the displays. He’d stared at everything around the room in a matter of minutes. He decided it wouldn’t do him any harm to stare at the back of Lydia’s head, she’d finished as well, sitting back in her chair, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger.

He thinks he fell asleep gazing at her because one minute everything was calm, Lydia’s hair slowly winding around her fingers, and the next, the teacher at the front was calling that time was up and there was a flurry of papers and chairs screeching against the floor.

The teacher walked up and down the row, collecting the papers, dismissing people as she went. She got to Stiles, took his paper and dismissed him. He walked, as quickly as wasn’t suspicious, out of the classroom and immediately grabbed Scott by the arm.

“Dude, how’d you do?” he asked, pulling his best friend over to the side. By his calculations, Allison wouldn’t be out for at least a minute, so he had time.

“I think it went well,” Scott replied, beaming. Stiles gave him a narrowed eyed look. “It did.” Scott insisted, still smiling.

Stiles nodded slowly, “If you say so dude.” Scott nodded and then Stiles lost him, Allison appearing out of the classroom, less flushed and hair back in order. They drew close to each other, the personal gravity they have between them pulling them together, and linked arms, skipping away to lunch.

“I can’t tell whether it’s cute or sickening how in love they are.” Lydia said, catching Stiles’s hand.

“I’m just glad they don’t make out in front of me as much.” Stiles said dryly. Lydia smiled in amusement and tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

“I am as well.”

They started to towards the cafeteria, the corridors had empty with everyone outside in the sun or getting lunch, but as they neared it, Lydia guided Stiles down an even emptier corridor.

“Er Lydia, lunch is that way,” Stiles said, waving a hand in the direction of the cafeteria. Lydia either didn’t hear him or ignored him - he’s sure it’s the latter - and guided him to a cupboard?

“Er Lydia,” he said but wasn’t answered as Lydia dragged him into the dark.

“Lydia?” he asked again as she closed the door behind them and flicked the light switch. Even in terrible lighting she looked beautiful, the light from the bulb bathing parts of Lydia’s face in a warm glow, others in shadows.

“Uh what are we doing here?” Stiles whispered - for no reason at all really - but it seemed weird to speak normally in the quiet.

“I don’t know,” Lydia said, whispering too, mischievously. Her eyebrows bunched up and she perched her lips and Stiles waited for her to decide what she was going to do.

He almost missed her moving but he definitely felt the effect. Lydia all but jumped at him, her hands wrapping around his shoulder. He gasped, tipping back into the wall behind him, and scrambled to wrap his arms just under her ass, because physics and gravity and stuff. She wrapped her legs around him easily, he didn’t want to know how much practise she’d had at this and yet, part of him did.

Lydia’s hand went from his shoulder to cup the nape of his neck and Stiles fell into the rhythm of the kiss, hot, frantic and _so_ good. Her lips tasted like cherry this time, but the taste was soon replaced by something uniquely Lydia. It was so much better.

He gripped her legs tightly, he really didn’t want to drop her: she wouldn’t be able to catch herself, not with her legs wrapped around his waist. Lydia clenched her legs around his waist in response, pressing her chest even closer against his, the fabric of her top dragging against his. He leant back against the wall behind him, parting from Lydia’s lips to rebalance himself.

“Have you always been this strong?” Lydia asked against his lips, one eyebrow cocked.

“I think it’s all the running,” Stiles panted.

Lydia hummed, stroking the hair behind his ear, “Well it’s a nice surprise. Let me down?”

Stiles blinked, “Er, sure.” He said after a second, bending his knees and guiding Lydia’s feet back to solid ground.

She landed perfectly, not tipping or wobbling like Stiles would. Her heels clicked on the linoleum floor, but she didn’t move backwards, staying chest to chest with him, her hands draped over his shoulders. She drew him down for a kiss before drawing back, her hands smoothing over his shoulders.

“I did have a reason for pulling you in here.” She started, trailing her hands down to his collar bones, fingers tugging the loose collar of his shirt.

“Really?” he said, slightly higher than usual even to his ears.

Lydia hummed, looking up at him mischievously. She pulled his shirt together, shifting how it sat on his shoulders. She leant closer, he thinks she’d balancing on her tip toes; how that was possible in heels, Stiles didn’t know. It’s probably in the same category as the magic that makes girls invulnerable to the cold and able to carry lots of stuff in such small bags even though they weigh the same as he does. He zoned back in when her breath coasted his lips, her nose millimetres from his.

“Really,” she said surely against his lip before she pulled away, her hands hooking on the waistband of his jeans. Stiles gulped as Lydia’s hand unbuttoned his jeans confidently and drew the zipper down. He may or may not have gasped slightly when her hands brushed against the bulge growing in his pants.

“Um Lydia-” Stiles started but the words caught in his throat as Lydia’s hands ran around his hips to cup his lower back and her fingers slipped inside his waistband, tugging it down.

She paused though and looked questioningly at him, “Is this okay?”

Stiles bit his lip but nodded jerkily, trying not to consider how there were probably people walking past the closet that could guess what they were doing.

Lydia grinned and lowered herself onto her knees gracefully, dragging his jeans with her. He shivered as the colder-than-he-thought air hit his thighs and then his calves. His hands pressed against the wall, palms flat on the cold concrete.

Even on her knees Lydia was in control, pealing his boxers down slowly and glancing up at him, one side of her red lips curled into a smirk. Her hands walked up his legs to cup his hips, her small hands perfectly sized for his hipbones. Her thumbs brushed over them just as Lydia leaned forward to plant a kiss under his bellybutton, soft lips brushing the skin there just as softly.

Stiles may or may not have held his breath the entire time.

Lydia noticed - of course she noticed - and glanced up, her face taking on an almost soft look, “Breathe Stiles.”

He let out the breath obediently, slowly like he would after a panic attack, counting to five before breathing in again. Lydia nodded encouragingly, tracing a pattern on hips as his breathed. She deemed him not too panicked as she placed kisses from his bellybutton down to just above his base then diverting down the inside of his left thigh.

It was almost torture, but he was kinda thankful she hadn’t jump straight to it, it’s not like this had ever happened to him before in any way, shape or form. He took a deep breath as Lydia kissed back up his thigh and curled a hand around him gently, tracing the under edge of the head with her thumb before tracing the same path with her tongue.

Stiles gasped, falling back against the solid wall behind, clenching his eyes shut. It was easier almost - with his eyes shut - he could pretend it was one of the many times he’d dreamt about something like this, though Lydia had never been on her knees. He let out a choked sound, something between a cough and a gasp, when her warm mouth sealed around him, swallowing him down easily.

He knew people did this, he’d done researched like every other person, enough to be able to picture Lydia even without his eyes open. He knew porn wasn’t always realistic but jeez, how can people pretend to not enjoy this, then again people do have their preferences, and he could guess maybe it wasn’t for everyone-

He let out a sharp, surprised sound - he was man enough to call it a whimper, it’s not like he has a manly reputation to protect - when Lydia sucked forcefully before pulling off.

“Stop thinking so much Stiles.” She said before swallowing him down again. Stiles nodded, not that Lydia would notice, he’s pretty sure she had her eyes closed too.

He tried valiantly to clear his mind but really if he’s never been able to do it since he was born, it’s not likely to work now. ‘Improbable’ Lydia would say, they don’t say impossible anymore: it should be impossible for his best friend to grow fangs and claws and make his eyes glow. He focused his thoughts instead, that’s usually the closest he could get to his head being clear. Focused on Lydia’s mouth on him, soft and warm, her teeth nowhere to be seen or well felt.

He moaned when she twisted her tongue and her wrist around him, a warm pressure building behind his eyes and behind his stomach. His breathing picked up, a lot like a panic attack but somehow instead of getting too little oxygen, he felt like he was getting too much. He's hyper-aware of everything, the sweat slipping down his back, the changes in temperature, his head and his chest boiling hot, his hands and his back freezing cold.

He wanted to hold onto something, the only thing being Lydia’s head, but he couldn’t, didn’t want to box her in. This was her show, she was in control and Stiles was happy to hand his over.

The heat built and built until Stiles was moaning and whimpering in turn, as quietly as possible. Lydia seemed to notice that he was close, whether it was her banshee powers or instinct, he couldn’t tell. She lifted one of her hands from her iron grip on his hip to grasp his hand. She drew back, said throatily, “It’s okay, you can.” And took him in all the way to the back of her throat.

Her throat fluttered around him, but she didn’t draw back, she simply held him in her throat, warm and wet and soft. He thought he moaned out Lydia’s name when he came, gripping her hand as he saw stars in the back of his eyelids. She gripped back even as she swallowed, keeping him grounded. A warm feeling spread down to his toes and up his chest to his head, making him light-headed.

He must have lost a little time because the next thing he was aware of was the cold floor underneath him and Lydia’s face, her thumb brushing along her corner of her mouth. She smiled fondly at him and crawled gracefully, how do you crawl that gracefully, up to him. She took his face in her hands and kissed him gently. When Stiles’s body finally got with the program and came back from the holiday it had been on, he wrapped his arms around her, resting them just above her hips.

“Jesus, Lydia…” he panted, when Lydia pulled away with soft chuckles.

“Good?” Lydia asked innocently, like she hadn’t just… yeah. Stiles swallowed dryly, trying to get his breath back.

“Definitely.” He agreed when he’d got a little air back.

“Good,” Lydia said with a smile, standing up, “Come on,” she started, “I think even Scott and Allison will be missing us by now.”

+1 

The vampires were finally gone, after two weeks of werewolves and annoying, murderous vampires. Scott’d had an impromptu pack meeting on the outskirts of the preserve, just to check that they’d actually, completely, definitely, never-to-be-seen-again gone. It had actually been Stiles’s idea because if there was one thing he didn’t want, it was a couple of vengeful left-over vamps from the nest hiding in the woods and attacking him and drinking his very important, life maintaining, blood. Lydia had agreed, and Scott had listened for once, thankfully.

If there’s one thing that teaches you to watch your ass, it’s having to wake up and chase half-dressed harpies at three am, five hours before a test.

Stiles offered to drive Lydia home, but she declined saying it was late and that Stiles’s house was closest anyway. The drive itself was peaceful: they sat in relative silence, the radio playing softly in the background, all slow songs at almost one in the morning. He watched the empty road carefully, used to things jumping out of the dark. He stopped dutifully at the stoplight even though there was no one around and probably wouldn’t be for at least another three hours. He was the son of the sheriff, it wouldn’t look great if Stiles did something stupid.

Again.

The light flashed green quickly and he followed the roads he knew inside out, the route between his house and the preserve was quickly becoming one of his most well-travelled apart from the route between his and Scott’s house.

He pulled up outside his house, right into the drive as dad’s patrol car was nowhere to be seen. He must be working the late shift again. As soon as he came to a stop, Lydia switched the radio off and climbed out of the jeep, walking quickly up the drive and into his house. It took Stiles a second to remember that he’d given Lydia a key to the house and that no, he hadn’t left the door unlocked for hours.

He followed her in, checking twice that the jeep’s door was locked and again when he locked the front door. Satisfied, he kicked his shoes off by the door, leaving them piled by Lydia’s delicately placed heels. He wondered into the kitchen and set about pouring him and Lydia a drink, hot chocolate since he was pretty sure Lydia would stab him with one of her heels if he attempted to drink coffee. He wasn’t sure where Lydia’d gone - he couldn’t hear her - but he shrugged it off.

For half a second.

He thoroughly blames the Supernatural for the sudden increase in paranoia he was experiencing, actually developed was probably a better word for it: experiencing implied that it’ll go away.

He searched the first floor but didn’t find her, so he continued up to the second floor, walking cautiously up the stairs and making sure to scope both directions before he walked towards the bathroom and bedrooms. He walked one step at a time, skipping over the squeaky floor boards spread across the landing in no discernible pattern, as he and Scott had found out when they’d mapped them. 

All the doors were closed except his bedroom, so he crept in that direction until he could hear a faint voice saying, “I’m staying at Stiles’s Ally… yes I’ll be at the brunch tomorrow… I know it’s ten o’clock because I arranged it… yes the diner on 6th.” 

Stiles stepped over the threshold, going toward where he’d thrown the t-shirt and shorts he wore to bed the night before. He found his shorts easily but spent a minute spinning on the spot looking for his black Star Wars t-shirt. 

“What are you looking for?” 

Stiles jumped but didn’t squeal thankfully, that’s all his dignity needed right now. Lydia gave him an amused look when he spun around to look at her.

“Er nothing,” Stiles replied, rubbing the back of his head, “Do you want some hot chocolate?”

“It’s one am.” Lydia pointed out.

Stiles sighed, “Honestly, I’m a little wired right now, I don’t think I can sleep,” he said, ducking his head sheepishly. Lydia nodded though unperturbed and stood up from the bed, smoothing her dress down.

“Okay,” she said softly, “I’m going to the bathroom but make me a cup?” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she passed.

“Sure,” Stiles said to Lydia’s retreating figure.

He striped his jeans off, replacing them with his shorts and pushed off his jacket and plaid shirt but since he still couldn’t find his t-shirt, he kept his plain blue one on. He padded back down the stairs and into the kitchen, hissing slightly as his bare feet stepped on the cold tile floor.

The process of making hot chocolate was familiar, his go-to to calm his brain down enough to sleep when it decided to be wired in the early hours of the morning, from anxiety or a mistimed Adderall dose. It’s been hard to remember when to take it recently, all the running around was messing with his routine. His mum used to make it too, before they’d known he had ADHD, when he used to wake up in the middle of the night with thousands of thoughts fighting in his head or when he’d never been to sleep at all. He focused solely on the process, on getting the proportions right. He could feel his mind clearing and he felt a little more in control of his movements as he poured the hot water into the two cups he’d set out. He was so focused that he didn’t even realise that Lydia had come downstairs.

He turned, both mugs in hand, which probably wasn’t a good idea, and jumped as he noticed a figure in the doorway. “Shit!” he yelped, as hot chocolate spilt over his hands as he jumped. He quickly set them down on the countertop and waved his hands in the air, searching for the towel. 

Chuckles reached his ears and suddenly his hands were being covered with a towel and small hands were rubbing his dry.

“I’m going to blame your jumpiness on how ‘wired’ you are.” Lydia teased, one of the corners of her lips tilted up. 

“Yeah,” Stiles muttered, watching Lydia’s hands rub his carefully with the towel. 

“Better?” 

“Yeah,” 

Lydia stepped away, tucking the towel over the handrail of the oven, smoothing it so that it was straight and folded perfectly in the middle. Stiles smiled in amusement and rose an eyebrow at her when she turned back around.

Lydia rolled her eyes, “OCD is a very common trait.” 

Stiles nodded seriously but something on his face told Lydia that he wasn’t fully convinced, to be fair it was probably the not very well-hidden grin on his face. She rolled her eyes again and picked up her mug or at least the mug she always used. 

Stiles was about to pick up his own mug when he caught sight of what Lydia was wearing, “Hey, is that my shirt?” 

Lydia looked down and back up at him, rising an eyebrow, “Wow, you can recognise your own clothes.” She deadpanned.

Stiles eyes strayed further down, “You’re not wearing anything underneath it.” 

Lydia sighed, “Are we playing a game of state the obvious?” 

Stiles was still trying to wrap his head around what he was seeing. He blinked three times and pinched his wrist, but no Lydia was still in his favourite red plaid and her pants, bare foot on the kitchen floor.

“This is really messing with your head isn’t it?” Lydia commented after a while, sounding amused.

“Well I’m sorry but to quote you, ‘I will never wear plaid’.”

Lydia narrowed her eyes, “I never said that.”

“It was implied, heavily implied.” Stiles insisted.

Lydia gave him a strange look before sighing again and muttering, “Boys.” And taking a sip of her hot chocolate. She cleared her throat and gestured a hand to his mug, “It’s going cold,” 

Stiles nodded, picking the mug up with both hands and gulping down at least half of it. When he set the mug down again, Lydia nodded in the direction of the door. “Come on, let’s go to bed, bring your hot chocolate.”

Stiles followed Lydia up the stairs and placed his mug carefully on his bedside table before he jumped onto the bed. He sighed, sinking into the soft mattress, pausing just to punch his pillow before tucking himself under the covers.

“You know I was impressed that your bed was made.” Lydia said conversationally, putting her mug on his desk before sitting on the other side of his bed. 

“It’s part of my routine, I always do it.”

Lydia hummed, laying on her back next to him. It was a bit of a squeeze, but they fitted, Stiles being skinny and Lydia being generally small. Her curves fit against him perfectly and he sighed contently. They stared at the ceiling together for maybe twenty minutes before Lydia said,

“I think I’m too wired to sleep.”

Stiles laughed, twisting onto his side to look at her. Lydia smiled back at him before leaning in to kiss him, running her tongue along his lips. Stiles leaned in, pressing one of his hands to the soft fabric of his shirt on Lydia’s waist . She pulled back suddenly and chuckled, whispering, “You had a chocolate moustache.”

“Did I look good with a moustache?” 

Lydia burst into laughter, her knees coming up to her chest as she gasped a faint “No,” before descending into another fit of laughter. Stiles watched in wonder as she laughed, the brightest smile lighting up her face and he thinks, I love her. He thought he’d loved her when he first met her or during sophomore but really, this… this was loving her. 

He laughed, breathless, his eyes fliting over her face, trying to commit the joy to memory. He leant in, not really thinking, but Lydia rose to meet him, cupping his nape as he leant over her. 

It was soft to start with and felt different. They’d kissed before, made out, the works but this… this felt different, deeper. Lydia seemed to notice too because she pulled him closer by the shoulders, wrists crossing over his back and legs opening to let him curl close. 

Her lips were as soft as ever, warm and firm and she tasted like hot chocolate. He felt a little powerless in her arms, and yet more confident than he ever felt. He brought his arms down to cup her hips, first over his shirt - shit his shirt - and then under it, rubbing at the warm skin just above the waistband of her pants. Lydia hummed into his mouth, gripping tighter at his t-shirt, tugging at it. 

“Off.” Lydia panted as she pulled away before latching onto his neck, suckling gently near his Adam’s apple. Stiles gulped down the insecurity, pulling away from Lydia’s hands and mouth. 

He curled his fingers in the fabric of his t-shirt and took a deep, slow breath. “I’m no Jackson,” Stiles blurted out. He cringed slightly, bring up the ex, that’s a great idea. 

“I know,” Lydia muttered, “You don’t have to be, I’m… I’m glad you’re not.”

Stiles let the breath he’d been holding out before taking another deep breath and pulling his t-shirt over his head. He threw it across his room, onto his desk chair. He jumped when two hands pressed against his stomach. He looked down reflectively at her hands as they traced the faint, very faint, like extremely faint outline of abs.

“See, definitely not a werewolf, I mean have you seen Scott’s abs or Derek’s even, they are-.”

“Very nice I’m sure but they aren’t my boyfriend’s.”

Stiles paused, mouth still open to continue his tangent. Lydia sighed and guided him back down to the bed, switching them so that she was on top, her long strawberry blonde hair hanging over one side of her neck.

“I don’t want anyone else Stiles, I want you.” She whispered. Stiles nodded slowly, bring his hand to cup her jaw. He rested his forehead against hers and muttered,

“Okay,” 

Lydia looked satisfied and sat back up, “I think I’m in the mood for sex.” She stated, “With you, now, if you’re up for it since you’ve managed to make me wired when I was perfectly sleepy earlier.” 

Stiles stared at her.

Lydia sighed, “I’m not going to start anything unless you give a proper answer.”

“Yes,” Stiles blurted, before hastily adding, “I’d like to yeah, but nothing extreme, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it is.” Lydia muttered as she leant down, pressing him into the mattress, kissing him feverously. His hands came up to grip her hips, trying to help her keep her balance. A hand gripped his at her hip and pushed them down one by one to the swell of her ass. Stiles made a questioning noise in the back of his throat and Lydia pulled back. Stiles went to remove his hands, but Lydia’s hands covered his and held them there. 

“I like them there.” Lydia whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth. 

“I’ll try and remember that,” 

“I’m sure you will.” Lydia muttered, trailing kisses down his neck. Stiles sighed and tilted his head to the side, letting Lydia have all the access she wanted. His hands squeezed her ass when she hit a particularly sensitive spot, his eyes flickering. She sat up again, he may have sucked in a breath when her weight settled over his lap, rubbing her against his dick. 

He refocused just as one of Lydia’s hands brushed her collarbone, coming to twist the highest button she’d done up, popping it open. He could just see the top of her breast over her bra, a pale blue one decorated with darker blue butterflies.

“I would have picked one of my better ones if I’d planned my night,” Lydia admitted, looking almost shy.

“I like this one just fine, I’m not that choosy, I’m just happy that you let me get this far at all.” 

Lydia gave him one of her soft smiles, where her lips perched and the corners tilted just slightly. She only gives him that one when she’s trying not to be emotional. He kissed the centre of her chest and along where he could reach with the other buttons done up. She relaxed against him and he felt her hands brush his chest, undoing another button. He kissed the new territory carefully, exploring every new inch she let him. He helped her pushed the shirt off her shoulders and asked silently, Lydia giving him a small nod, to undo her bra.

It took him two tries, but he was still proud of himself when he slipped the white straps off her shoulders. He ran one of hands up her bare back, soft to the touch and slightly warm, placing his palm flat on the centre of her back. He tipped them sideways, placing Lydia on her back.

He went straight to her nipples, licking at them and suck them in turn.

“Stiles,” she gasped, and Stiles looked up. She nodded her head toward his bedside table and said breathily, “Condom.”

Stiles nodded, and silently thanked his brain for late night research sessions on safe sex. He picked one out randomly and sat back on his heels. 

“So…” Stiles started, “How are we-,”

“Going to do this?” Lydia finished, smiling cheekily.

“Yeah,”

Lydia seemed to think for a second, “Well, personally I like being on top and since it’s your first time I think that’s the best option, is that okay?” 

Stiles nodded, because that was all he could really do. He could feel his stomach churning, yet he felt almost calm: there was a logical plan with reasons and there weren’t any surprises waiting in the shadows. It showed how far they’d come that Lydia knew how to keep him calm. 

“However,” she leant up on an elbow, “next time, I’d like to try with you on top.” and she winked.

Stiles coughed into a fit of laughter and rolled onto his back next to Lydia. She patted his hand briefly and rose up, taking the condom packet from his hand. Her thumbs hooked on the waist band of his shorts and tugged them down, slipping them over his knees and around his feet, dropping them off the side of the bed. 

Stiles gasped as cold air hit him. He opened his eyes just as Lydia ripped the packet with her teeth and grasped his dick, deftly rolling on the condom. His breath hitched as he watched Lydia remove her last piece of clothing. He’d seen her before, at the lake and in the Jeep, but here he could appreciate her entirely, sat above him like a goddess. 

She placed a kiss to the centre of his chest and straddled him, taking his dick in hand and positioning it how she wanted. Stiles tried to keep perfectly still as she sank down on him so he clenched his fists in the sheets and closed his eyes firmly, concentrating on his breathing as she got fully seated. 

Lydia gasped as she moved into comfortable position on his lap, pressing both of her palms onto his abs to keep balance. They just breathed in time for a minute, the longest minute of Stiles’s life.

“You know I was expecting all your talking to be making up for something,” Lydia panted, tilting to move her hair over shoulder.

“It does, for a lot of things,”

“Well definitely not this,” Lydia said, rocking forward. Stiles moaned, an arm coming up to cover his eyes. Lydia’s hand led it back down after a second.

“Good to know,” he panted out as Lydia started to rock more forcefully above him. It took a couple of tries to get his thrusts in time - he never did have great rhythm - but eventually they were in sync, Stiles thrusting as Lydia pushed down.

Lydia panted above him, gasping every time he hit a spot deep inside her and moaning whenever she rose up. Her skin shone in the moonlight coming through his window, beads of sweat trailing in between her breast that bounced just slightly when Stiles rocked harder. He could feel his back straining, tired from trekking through the dark woods. He could feel every push and pull of his muscles, every little twitch of Lydia around him. 

One of her hands trailed down toward where they were joined, Stiles had been avoiding looking at sight of them since the last thing he wanted to do was cut this short. He knew in the back of his mind where her fingers were going and instead moved his own to Lydia’s clit, rubbing his thumb just how she liked it.

She groaned high in her throat and rocked out of rhythm, hard into his hand. He felt her clench around him and then he was seeing stars, his vision blacking out slightly as Lydia moaned his name, his own lips spilling out a choked, “Lydia,”.

He felt rather than saw Lydia collapsing onto his chest, a small shiver running down both of them as he slipped out of her. 

“I don’t think I’m wired anymore,” Stiles mumbled, bringing his hand up to cup the back of Lydia head. 

She chuckled, “I hope not,” She lifted her head up just enough to look him in the eye, yawning before she could say anything else.

Stiles huffed a laugh, his eyes slipping shut, three words escaping his lips before he could stop them.

“I love you,” 

He held his breath, yelling at himself, a stream of sarcastic ‘well done’s. 

“I love you too,” Lydia said quietly and when Stiles opened his eyes to check he wasn’t hearing things, she was looking straight at him. He let out the breath and settled back into his pillow. Lydia wiggled a little too, position herself how she wanted, her arms wrapping around his waist, her head snuggling into the crook of his neck. He didn’t usually sleep on his back or really, he didn’t usually start on his back.

But for Lydia he could make an exception.


End file.
